


tarraxinha

by MaRuX



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Dancing Lessons, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, ShuAnn Week, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 14:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19889383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaRuX/pseuds/MaRuX
Summary: "Well, it takes a while to adjust when you have to work together." Her partner said, shifting his stance, adjusting his hold on her right hand. His grip had the sort of effortless, accommodating quality to it that could only come from practice. She felt slightly reassured by that. Before she could find her response, the instructor turned on the music.(ShuAnn Week prompt: Touch)





	tarraxinha

**Author's Note:**

> I've taken kizomba classes for a year and I've been obsessed with the idea of all my ships dancing it ever since.
> 
> I already started this draft before ShuAnn Week, but it fit one of the prompts, so I figured I might as well. Too bad I am a slow af writer and it takes me an eternity and a half to finish :^)

  
It started with a burst of inspiration in the wake of frustration.

Mika's condescending smile was a splinter in Ann's mind, left her reeling and unbalanced for days. It gnawed at her. Worse than that, she wasn't wrong.

Ann needed to up her game.

In a fit of anger, she consulted the internet using insightful specific keywords tailored to her needs. Sifting through the results had been time-consuming, and the day after difficult to pay attention in class, but eventually she found her answer.

And with her signature level of enthusiasm, she jumped into it headfirst as she approached most things. This new venture would solve all her problems, she just knew it! She just needed to work hard!

She was going to take dance classes.

Not just any dance classes though, oh no. Ann was ready to give it her all and surpass Mika as efficiently as possible. Not willing to leave anything to chance, Ann looked for the sexiest most titillating dance style she could find. (After deciding pole dancing needed a level of - albeit enviable - athleticism, she didn't think it was quite what she was looking for. Most photoshoots took place with her feet on the ground, thankfully.)

So, kizomba it was.

* * *

The first part of the lesson was quite promising. They were split into two groups, guys and girls, each focusing on their particular set of steps and posturing. Keeping her spine straight all the time was a conscious effort, shoulders back, limbs relaxed. (She didn't know what it meant to "loosen" her hips though, it sounded like something too lewd to say in public.) She listened to the instructor's count, trying to match the weight switch from one leg to another according to her counting beats, lifted her heels as instructed. One thing at a time, the teacher told them.

Ann looked at herself in the floor-length mirror as she practiced the steps. Not bad, she surmised with a grin.

* * *

"Alright, now pair up!" the other instructor called out, clapping his hands expectantly. Ann shifted in place, uncertain, glancing furtively from place to place. She saw the looks some of the guys aimed in her direction earlier, not creepy per se but enough to make her want to avoid their gaze for the time being.

Their teachers nonchalantly walked around guiding people around - and one of them came over and left a young man right next to Ann, gently pushed to make them face each other. "Go on, time to get to the real practice."

The guy's pale complexion caught onto the lights, the shadows melded into his messy hair. He looked at her through thick-rimmed glasses, eyes soft underneath.

Something inside her deigned him safe. She shyly smiled at him and he responded with a subtle quirk of his lips, a lift of his palm towards her. She placed her hand in his, tried to control her breathing as he brought himself slightly closer.

The instructor walked past again, nudged her gingerly to take another step before moving on. Ann's palm against his chest, warm and solid. Their feet almost in between. She was so close, she couldn't look him in the eye, not if she wanted to not bump into him, smush her face against his shoulder, smear her make up on his neck - and that line of thought made her cheeks burn.

Ann swallowed, tried to keep herself calm. She couldn't recall any other time she had ever been so close to a boy.

"First time dancing with a partner?" His voice suddenly rumbled against her palm, in her ear, and it did not help in keeping her composure. She suddenly felt warm all over, and she hummed in assent with a wobble in her voice.

"Don't worry, it gets easier after the first few times." Why was he still talking? It did confusing things to her.

She cleared her throat, tried to think past the sudden sensory attack. "The first few? That's not as reassuring as I'd hoped."

He hummed in response and she didn't know what to do with that. At all. She didn't know that being so close to someone could feel so intimate. She didn't just hear his voice, she could _feel_ it.

"Well, it takes a while to adjust when you have to work together." Her partner said, shifting his stance, adjusting his hold on her right hand. His grip had the sort of effortless, accommodating quality to it that could only come from practice. She felt slightly reassured by that. Before she could find her response, the instructor turned on the music.

A steady beat pulsed through, and a light voice [hummed](https://youtu.be/j2lfj4CoGxE) a tune underneath it. An undercurrent to the rhythm, breathy and feminine, flowing through the air like a heady perfume.

Ann found herself in an odd sort of headspace the more it went on, as her partner started to follow the beat. She responded to the motions, as rehearsed, a measured shift of weight from one leg to another, lifting her heels and lingering on her toes. Her breathing followed the flow of the song, the rhythm now akin to a heartbeat in her ears, as her palm lay splayed over her partner's chest, his warm and steady at the dip in her waist.

"Good!" the instructor's voice traveled to her ears "Follow the beat, c'mon, one-two-" follow his lead, bend the knee, breathe in, hip to the right- "-three-four-" breathe, follow his cue, weight shift, stretch the left leg, lift the heel - "-five-six-seven-" steady exhale, the shirt thin and tangible against her fingers, the body underneath it solid and lanky like a beacon "-eight- let's go!" and she stumbled over her feet, weight now on the wrong one for this new pattern.

Her face was on fire.

"Sorry," she mumbled, not even loud enough to know for sure if he heard her.

He squeezed her hand gently in his, standing still until the instructor reached "eight" again, and then he stepped smoothly to the side, bringing her into step with him and everyone else. She was ready now, ha! (Her hips swayed to the beat easily, helpless to the music and the coaxing of his hands.)

A surge of excitement battled within her, against the serenity found in such synchronicity. She chanced a look upwards at her partner, and he looked back at her, a small uptick of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Having fun?" he asked, his voice a low layer underneath the smoky kizomba beat.

Her spine felt elastic, her curves soft against his angles. His eyes were night velvet.

"Yes, thank you." She grinned, in spite of the low thrum she felt in her belly, the pit-patter of her heart going off-beat. Her steps were still measured, following his.

Fun.

"Alright, time to switch!" the instructor bellowed, making her jump and stumble again. She didn't have the chance to settle back into it, as all the other dancers stopped in an awkward shuffle.

As the teacher started giving directions on how they should change pairings, Ann's partner sought her gaze. He pinned her in place with his focus. "Don't worry, you're doing great." He briefly squeezed her hand still in his, and lifted the corner of his mouth in a subtle, reassuring smile before letting go.

Ann felt very much like the proverbial deer frozen in the middle of the road, but she managed to nod in response. A sheepishness came over her, her free hand toyed with the ends of her hair.

"I hope I didn't put you off too hard to perhaps try again sometime?" it was a breathless, awkward string of words coming out of her mouth. What are you doing, Ann.

He tilted his head, like the way a bird observes. "Not at all." he declared, tone light and perfectly amiable. "I'll be looking forward to our next dance."

That made a grin creep onto her lips; as she stepped away, letting her hand slip off his chest, she pointedly blinked wide doe eyes at him, lashes curled in mascara-black. "So am I." Taking one last look behind her, she turned and walked away with a spring in her step.

As the lesson went on they regularly switched partners. Ann followed the flow as ordered by the instructors, tried to follow her current partner(s) movements as instructed. Now that she knew how to dance (kinda) to this kind of music, it quickly grew on her. The beat was steady, constant, the framework that dictated the motion. It was comforting in a way, as she learned to listen to and follow it - that is, until she either tripped once more, stumbled into her partner or they both collided with another pair.

In due time, she got back right where she started, and as she turned away from her previous partner, she came face to face with her very first. She couldn't help the grin that bloomed on her face, elated and flustered. She saw the happy glint in his eye, and as he offered his hand towards her she all but floated her way towards him with a little twirl.

"Ready?" he asked right as the beat of a new song started booming through the speakers. She bit her lip, let her hips tilt in a half-sway as she looked him in the eye. Her competitive side reared its head, like he was a milestone taunting in the distance. Posture perfect, close enough to breathe him in, all coffee undertones and curry spice, she asked.

"Are you?"

**Author's Note:**

> I have more stuff in mind after this scene, but it was already taking too long already. If you'd like this to be continued, let me know. :V
> 
> I fucking miss dancing kizomba tbh. If you don't know what that is, here's great example imo: https://youtu.be/8FBbFEUYsIM
> 
> If sex is the horizontal tango, then kizomba is vertical foreplay. So... I might bump the rating up in the future if I end up writing more. :3 Who knows. I sure don't!
> 
> Edit: did you catch the link inside the fic? It's the first song I danced kizomba to (when I didn't even know how). It has a special place in my heart.


End file.
